Footsteps of a Stranger
by Little Octopus
Summary: Alfred and Matthew are half-breeds with the white men and the natives. Though life isn't the greatest, the twin brothers manage. Then things turn strange as new white men come to their land.
1. Chapter 1

Footsteps of a Stranger

Arthur was excited beyond belief. However, he didn't let that show, he didn't want that rotten Frenchman to take notice and announce it to the whole crew.

Arthur grunted as he dropped yet another bag of grain on top of the ones he had just brought into the ship. Francis appeared beside him and dropped his bag also. Francis was the rotten Frenchman, and, though Arthur shuddered to himself at the thought of it, hi's only friend. Arthur hung around Francis for the sheer reason that everyone else hated them and thought they had bought their way onto the boat. Which they had, as they are nobles. But the castouts half to stick together right?

"Who would have thought that the two of us would be going to the New World together!" Francis exclaimed, throwing his arm around Arthur.

"Get off of me, you idiot." Arthur shoved Francis off of his back and went to the deck of the ship.

"But it's so exciting! " Francis spread his arms and stood at the railing. "A whole New World! A dazzling place we never knew-"

"Even existed." Arthur finished for Francis. "I know."

"Aren't you ever happy about anything?" Francis sighed.

Arthur stood by Francis his arms folded. "I am." With a soft smile and as glance at his friend, Arthur said, "It is exciting. I'm finally leaving England."

Francis glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the crew sneering at them. "Agreed."

"I wonder what we'll see." Arthur mumbled.

"Or who. These lands were going to are supposed to be filled with savages."

Arthur lifted a shoulder. "We'll know in a few days."

Alfred leaned over the edge of the cliff. His long braids fell over his shoulder and dangled above the steep drop.

"I really wish you wouldn't stand that close to the edge, Alfred." his twin brother, Matthew said. His identical braids were twisted between his fingers in worry.

"If I do fall, I'll land in the water." Alfred said. He stepped back anyway. "It's nothing to worry about."

His brother rolled his eyes. "Come on, the chief will be back soon."

Alfred groaned but followed Matthew down an almost invisible path. "He doesn't even like us, why should we go greet him?"

"Because it is part of our people's tradition." Matthew called over his shoulder. He slid down a rock smoothly.

"You know they don't consider us part of them." Alfred said, leaping off the same rock.

The twin boys were half-breeds. Their native mother was impregnated by a white settler. They grew up with their father to the age of eight and after his death, the boys had been living with their mother for the past ten years. Though they retained their English names and language, they were accepted by the majority of the tribe and quickly learned the native tongue. However, as the years had gone on and more and more white men were taking their land, the boys were soon seen as one of the white men. Even though their skin was a shade lighter than the natives and a shade darker than the white men.

To keep the peace, Alfred and Matthew secluded themselves from the tribe and attempted to be as perfect as they could. They participated in all of the traditions, coming to call them their own. Although Alfred would complain at times and not everyday was easy for the boys, they have lived peacefully and happily for the last ten years.

They arrived at their village and stood in the back as the chief told of how he and his warriors had succeeded in their fight against the oncoming white men. Their village was safe. For now.

Alfred huffed and folded his arms. Then in English, told Matthew: "We could have helped them fight if they weren't so stubborn."

"Shh. Don't be disrespectful." Matthew hissed, nudging Alfred's ribs.

With a grunt, Alfred quieted down. Though when he joined the others for a victory cheer, his wasn't as loud.

"Come on, let's find Mother." Matthew said once the crowd dispersed.

The twin boys walked close together as they meandered through the village. A few glares from the elders were shot their way. Years had toughened the boys's outer shell, but they still felt the hate of the others.

They found their mother near the chief. Everyone knew they had a thing going on, but no one dared mention it. The tall tan man glared as the twins approached.

"Welcome back, Chief." Matthew greeted.

The man grunted.

"What is it boys? I'm very busy." Kiatana said. She pushed her braid over her shoulder.

"We just wanted to greet the chief." Matthew said nervously.

Alfred huffed and his brother jabbed an elbow into his ribs. The other sighed before offering a weak smile at the couple-that's-not-a-couple. "Yeah. We're glad you came home safe."

The chief grunted and turned his back to them. Kiatana twisted her hands together before addressing her sons. "The river is safe again." she took their arms and dragged them to the edge of the river. Away from the chief, she hissed "Can you two attempt to act like the others? You stand out like donkey among horses."

"We're sorry, we can't-"

"I know you can't help who you are," their mother said with forced calmness. "But can you be less…" she waved her hands, looking for the words.

"Us?" Alfred piped up, a glare in his usually gentle blue eyes.

"Yes!" their mother exclaimed. "That's exactly it!" she looked over her shoulder and the growingly impatient chief. "I have to go. Be good."

Once she left, Alfred turned on his heel and stormed away. Matthew followed silently, knowing that his brother was on the brink of exploding. And doing that in the village was not the place to do it.

Alfred ended up leading Matthew to the river. Matthew watched patiently as Alfred threw rocks and other stones into the water as he ranted.

"She acts like it's _our_ fault for being half breeds! Did she forget that it was _her_ that _chose_ to have us! I know we were dumped on her, and we weren't born in the best of ways, but she can at least acknowledge that we have feelings!" Alfred finished by trying to throw a rock the size of his torso. He only succeeded in falling on his face, rock barley away from his fingers.

Matthew chuckled at his brother and helped him up. "Let's go for a ride."

"Where?" Alfred sniffed, wiping his nose. Though he tried to be tough, he was really a big baby.

"Down the river." Matthew said softly.

Alfred nodded and the brothers walked in silence to the canoes. Claiming they were going fishing, the two managed to get a canoe and started their way down the river.

"She is just so...ugh!" Alfred slapped his paddle against the water.

"I know, Al." Matthew said. Though they were the same age, Matthew felt he was more mature than Alfred by years.

Suddenly, Alfred stood. The gentle breeze lifted his golden locks, making them dance around his cheeks. His braids that sat behind his ear waved down how back. "We're close."

Matthew nodded. "I feel something different today, though."

Alfred sat back down and picked up his paddle. "I feel it too."

They shared an uneasy look and maneuvered their way to the hidden grove. Alfred stepped into the water and pulled Matthew on to the bank. With their canoe safely stored on the sand, they walked the short distance to the heart of the grove. A large tree loomed over them, even with three others, they would not be able to touch hands around the base. In a nest of roots sat their father's memorial.

Matthew kneeled beside the simple stone and brushed away dead grass and leaves. Though their father's body was not buried there, they had set up the memorial so they would have a place to feel close to their dad.

Alfred furrowed his brow and walked around the base of the tree. "Matt, it's quiet."

"It is." He stood and came to his brothers side, looking over the river. "Something is very wrong."

There was usually birds chirping and small animals rustling through the trees. Fish would splash around and the wind would whistle and shake the branches of the tall trees. However, everything was silent and still.

Suddenly, a giant gush of wind about knocked the brothers off their feet. Their hands instantly found each other as they steadied themselves.

They turned so their backs were against the flow, their hair flapped wildly around their faces. At that time, Alfred had a thought. It was crazy and far-fetched but he spoke it anyway.

"We should climb the tree."

"I think so too, Al." Matthew breathed.

They shared a look and walked to the trunk. Alfred gave Matthew a boost to the first branch and his brother pulled him up. Together they navigated the limbs of the ancient tree until they reached the top. Their view spanned all the way to the ocean. And what was floating along the coast.

With another look at each other, they left their father's memorial and sprinted to the beach.

Arthur was the first on the shore. He breathed deeply and grinned at the dense vegetation in front of him. He couldn't wait to go exploring. But he had to wait for a certain idiot to catch up.

"Arthur! I got water in my shoe!" Francis whined from the edge of the ocean.

"Well, if you would have put your boots on like you were supposed to, you wouldn't have that problem." Arthur snapped, glaring at the Frenchman.

"But they are so ugly!" Francis whined.

Arthur sighed and folded his arms as he waited for Francis to catch up with him. When they were side by side, Arthur raised a large eyebrow. "May we enter the forest of this undiscovered land, or would you like to cry some more?"

"Stuff it."

Rolling his eyes at the weak comeback, Arthur took to the forest. He found an animal trail and followed it, Francis on his heels.

"I heard that there are savages in this part of the world." Francis said.

"Did you not bring a gun?"

"That's why I have you."

Arthur thew Francis a glare and let a tree whap him in the face.

Francis yelped and held his nose as he ducked under a tree. "That was rude!"

"Shut up." Arthur was standing still as Francis came to stand beside him.

"Why are you so-"

"Shut up!" Arthur hissed. "There's something over there!"

"Is it going to kill us?" Francis asked, his blue eyes darting around a small clearing.

"I don't even know what it is." Arthur snapped. He craned his neck to look into the trees. He saw a slight movement and locked his eyes on the creature. In a flash of blue and tan, the creature was gone. Almost without thought, Arthur sprinted after it.

"Arthur!" Francis's faint call came from behind him, but he kept running.

Trees hit his face, but Arthur kept his eyes on the thing running in front of him. "Wait!"

The thing looked over his shoulder and stared at arthur with shocking blue eyes. It was a man! Arthur stumbled and missed where the man turned. He turned on his heel. Rocks scaled hundreds of meters beside him, a waterfall cascaded down on the the rocks into a clear pool by the toe of his boot. Giant trees took up the rest of the space.

"I know you're out here." Arthur called. "Just come out."

Soft footsteps sounded near Arthur. He spun on his heel and scanned the area.

"You speak English." a voice said with a tilt to the words.

"As do you." Arthur replied. "Who are you?"

"Lay your weapons down and I'll come out." the voice has a slight shake to it. Arthur decided it was male.

"Alright." Arthur crouched down and deposited his gun and knife. He stood with his hands spread. "You don't have any weapons, do you?"

A knife that looked carved from bone dug itself into the ground by Arthur's feet. "Will you come out now?"

A pause then a gentle sliding noise. Arthur turned to the rocks. A young blond man crouched at the bottom of them. His chest was bare and he had a single star on his right shoulder. Though his hair was cut short with bangs and a peculiar cowlick, two long braids dangeled from behind his left ear. Blue eyes bore into Arthur. His skin was dark, but not as dark as the other savages he had seen. This young man was astonishing.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, straightening. He was shorter than Arthur, though not by much. Probably malnourishment from the savage's diet.

Arthur had to clear his throat before answering. "I am Arthur Kirkland. May I ask your name?"

"Alfred." the boy kept a large space between the two. "Alfred Jones."

Matthew watched the tall blond from inside the branches of a tree. He was rather handsome, and Matthew was intrigued with the strange language the man was speaking.

Alfred had told him to stay out of sight as he followed the leader. However, as the man began wandering deeper into the forest, Matthew kept feeling that he should stop him. After all, a few large cats were known to attack anything or anyone who wandered too close to home.

Matthew leaped from tree to tree until he was able to drop down in front of the man. The tall stranger startled and took a few steps back as Matthew stood from his landing.

"Where did you come from?" the man asked, breathing hard.

"The trees." Matthew said calmly. He smiled and held his hands up, showing he meant no harm.

"Have you been following me?" the man questioned, now in control of his breathing.

"Yes." Matthew dropped his hands and moved closer to the man. "You were going into dangerous territory. I had to help."

"Well, thank you. Are you one of those savages? You speak English very well." the man said, taking a step closer to Matthew.

"Savages?" Matthew retreated a step.

"The uncivilized people who live in these parts." the man explained.

"They are not savages." Matthew defended.

"Yet, you did not include yourself with them." the man said.

Matthew narrowed his eyes to a glare. "My mother is one of them. My father was an Englishman. When he died, we were placed with our mother since no one wanted the half breeds."

"Who is 'we?'" the man lowered his hands.

"My brother and I." Matthew relaxed his shoulders as the man did. If he wanted to fight, he would have attacked by now.

"I see."

Matthew looked around the clearing. No one was around. "Why are you here?"

"We've come to help your people."

"There is nothing for you to help with." Matthew said

"You have lived both lives, civilized and savage. Which do you prefer?"

Matthew recoiled and looked at his feet. It was obvious they both knew the answer.

"I have to go." Matthew finally said and began retreating.

"Wait, which village is your home? I do not wish to destroy it."

Matthew shook his head and said nothing. He had already told this man too much, to tell him where the others were was not a good idea.

"Then, when can I see you again?"

"I don't even know your name." Matthew was almost to the tree line, then he would be home free.

"Francis."

Matthew felt a flutter in his chest. It has been ages since he heard a simple name like that. It made him feel like he was back home. "Matthew."

"Meet me here at sundown." Francis said.

Matthew shook his head but smiled as he disappeared into the brush.


	2. Chapter 2

Footsteps of a Stranger

Chapter 2

¤ Though 'half-breed' is not the correct term, it is for the time period this story takes place. It is meant to be offensive in this story for future drama. I will continue to use the term but mean no offense to anyone as I am a halfer myself. ¤

Alfred watched the man in front of him. He was pale and blond. The opposite of his mother's people. He didn't speak, neither did the man before him. He had called himself 'Arthur'. Alfred liked the name, but he didn't speak it now, afraid the man would take it as an invitation.

Finally the man spoke. "I don't mean you any harm."

"I would imagine so, since we have no weapons." Alfred said.

Arthur smiled. "You're right."

More silence.

"Are you one of the natives here?" Arthur asked.

"Not really." Alfred replied.

"Oh?" Arthur took a step forward and relaxed his hands.

"Why should I tell you about me if I know nothing about you?" Alfred retreated a step.

"Fair enough. I'm Arthur Kirkland, I'm from England. Do you know England?"

Alfred gave a curt nod.

"Are you from England?"

"Not really." Alfred responded.

"So, you're not really a native, yet you're not really from England. What are you?" Arthur asked.

Alfred eyed Arthur. He seemed genuinely curious, not like he wanted to use the information against Alfred. The boy took a breath and answered. "My father came here from England and met my mother. He wanted children, she didn't, but she didn't really have a choice. When we were born, she was run out of the village. We were raised by our father for eight years. When he died, the only person we could go to was our mother."

"You're a half-breed!" Arthur said, astonished. "I've never met one! No wonder you look like that! And who is 'we?'"

"My twin brother." Alfred said. "How did you get here?"

"We took a large ship. Of course, Francis and I had to buy our way in, but it's alright. We don't want gold or wives. We just want to be something else."

"You're wealthy." Alfred breathed out. He and Matthew used to be, but all the money got taken away and given to their uncles despite the will that stated everything should be split between the twins.

"More or less. Not as wealthy as the king but I do pretty well." Arthur shrugged.

Alfred nodded. "And you're here just to be here."

"Being wealthy has its advantages, and disadvantages. Always being here or there and keeping face. Not to mention all the women constantly after my money." Arthur said.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "That sounds terrible."

Arthur opened his mouth to respond but _another_ native came into the clearing. This one looked just like Alfred, except his braids were on the other side. He looked between the two and spoke in a language Arthur did not understand, though he thought he heard 'Francis' in the middle of the jumble of syllables.

Alfred gave Arthur a glance when they were done talking. "We have to go now."

"Why?"

They twins exchanged a look and Alfred spoke. "We have to be back before dark. Village rules. May I get my knife?"

Arthur nodded and watched as the boy tentatively walked to Arthur. He knelt to pick up the weapon and Arthur was suddenly overcome with how beautiful the boy really was. Arthur held his breath. They were less than two feet apart. Arthur _had_ to see Alfred again. Learn more about him. Take in more how his perfect eyes seemed to see right to Arthur's soul.

"Meet me tonight." Arthur breathed out.

"I can't. I-" Alfred looked at his brother and they had another silent conversation. With a huff, Alfred faced Arthur again. "Come with your friend. Francine-"

" _Francis_." Matthew hissed.

"Whatever. Come with him and I'll see you."

Arthur felt a swell in his chest and was about to respond, but the twins were gone.

"You agreed to meet him?" Alfred scolded Matthew. "Are you crazy?"

"No. I'm just lonely." Matthew replied, keeping his voice low. You never knew who was lingering in the woods.

"You have me!" Alfred snapped back.

"Not that kind of lonely!" Matthew punched his brother. "Everyone our age is getting married. No one would ever dream of being with us because of who we are, but Francis was different. He looked at me like I was worth something, not a filthy half-breed."

Alfred was silent, but only because he agreed with Matthew. The people in their village turned their noses up at them while Arthur had been entranced with who he was. It was comforting to know someone out there found him interesting and not disgusting.

They entered the village, which was oddly silent. Alfred furrowed his brow and gripped Matthew's arm. Something wasn't right.

Matthew shook Alfred off and went to a group of elderly women. Alfred looked around the village, trying to figure out what was wrong. Matthew returned a moment later with the news.

"A warrior was shot by the white men on the beach." he whispered, his eyes troubled.

"Is he okay?" Alfred asked. He'd never shot a gun before, but their father had one and he knew how they worked. And how deadly they were.

"They don't know. They hardly have the medical care we did. Especially for a bullet." Matthew wrapped his arms around himself.

Just then, the chief left the healing tent and raised his arms. Everyone hushed their voices and faced their leader.

"These white men are more dangerous than the others," his eyes came to land on Alfred and Matthew. Not only referring to them, but to their first home that was at least a nine day horse ride. The two cultures haven't had contact since they dumped the twins on the village. "Everyone stay within our borders and do not communicate with the newcomers. We don't need another fatality."

Gasps and cries of shock and anger came from the crowd. Matthew huddled closer to Alfred. Both of them thinking of their soon to be broken promises.

"Please be careful and vigilant during the next few days." The chief dipped his head and returned to the healing tent.

"What are we going to do?" Matthew hissed in English.

Alfred set his jaw and sat by the low fire. "We sneak out."

"But Al-"

"If you want to see them again, we'll have to." Alfred said softly. He picked up the nearest project, a half woven basket, and began to weave the strands together.

Matthew sighed and plopped down next to Alfred and started husking corn. They did not need anymore attention on them now than the already did.

Alfred snuck out first. No one asked him where he was going, and he didn't announce an excuse. He waited for Matthew just inside the cornstalks.

Ten minutes later, Matthew was by his side. He smelt a tad like flowers and his hair was obviously freshly combed. Alfred grinned but Matthew punched him on the arm before he could say anything.

Staying close to the ground and shadows, they stole away into the night.

They had to cross the river to get to their designated meeting area. The brothers had created a plan to get a canoe without having to use the shared village ones.

Luckily, their tent was beside their mother's, who shared with the chief, who had his own canoe. It was common unspoken knowledge that the chief would sometimes whisk his mistress away on the boat in the middle of the night. However, based on the flirtatious giggles and husky voice coming from the tent, there would be no canoe ride tonight.

The brothers pushed out into the river, careful to go to the far bank before going down the river. They ducked low as they passed the distant fires and only sitting back up when the dim light faded.

"Do you think they'll be there?" Matthew whispered, barely louder than the almost still water around them.

"They have to be." Alfred answered. "Arthur looked determined to see us again."

"What if it's a trap?" Matthew said.

Alfred rolled his eyes at that. "If it is, we won't have any trouble proving that we are one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"If we can prove to them we are as 'civilized' as they are, we can go back to sleeping in a house."

Matthew lowered his oar, brow furrowed in thought. "Do you really hate living in the village that much?"

Alfred sighed and rowed harder to pick up Matthew's slack. "It's more the people. The food, culture and everything else are wonderful. I'm just tired of being seen as a piece of rotten meat "

"Do you think living with the whites will be better?" Matthew asked, finally helping Alfred propel themselves down the river. "I mean, once they find out what we are?"

Alfred raised his eyes to Matthew. He was right. They were outcasts wherever they went. Nothing would change that.

Unless they got someone to vouch for them.

He turned in the boat, water sloshing over the sides. "Matthew!"

"What?" his brother hissed. "You're going to give us away!"

"We can get Arthur and Francis to help!"

"What are you blabbing about?" Matthew rolled his eyes.

"If we really want to go back, Arthur and Francis can tell everyone that we are part of the white men."

Matthew sighed and shook his head. "We can't use them like that."

Alfred pursed his lips, but silently agreed.

They finally got to their meeting spot. After pulling the canoe to the rocky shore, the brothers entered the light forest. They walked for some time until they heard voices. Freezing, Alfred pressed himself against a tree as Matthew hid behind him.

"They're not here!" a British voice said, obviously disgruntled.

"Give them a minute, I'm sure they'll come." Came a soothing French accent.

Alfred glanced at his brother and the two emerged from the trees. Arthur gazed at the twins, or rather, Alfred as they came into the gentle light of the lanterns. Alfred averted his eyes, but managed a somewhat snarky comment. "If you two were going to shout, we might as well have yelled across the river."

Matthew was instantly drawn to Francis's side, who seemed to either not care or notice. "Do forgive my friend, he does not have an inside voice."

"I am not your friend and I _do_ have an inside voice, we just happen to be outside." Arthur glared hotly at Francis.

"Keep it _down._ " Alfred glanced around the two white men. They didn't seem to have weapons or anyone hiding to ambush them.

Arthur rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

"Why did you want to meet us here?" Matthew asked.

Francis's gentle blue eyes landed and Matthew. "We came here to learn, but but the entire ship is merely digging up the forest."

Alfred felt his heart drop. That's all the white men seemed to do. Their father had done it also, but at a young age, Alfred and Matthew had assumed it was normal. Now that they had lived in the woods and came to call the trees home, it was upsetting to hear it being taken down.

"What did you want to learn?" Matthew asked.

"How to plant things, and the way of your people." Francis said.

"My king and queen would also like to meet with the people from here." Arthur added. "If I can bring someone back to England, my king would reward me greatly."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. "You two sound like you just want to become even more wealthy."

Francis chuckled. "We are already wealthy. Arthur just meant he would be married to a princess."

Arthur whacked Franciss arm rather roughly. "That is not true. If I do manage to get someone to come home with me, the king would still have many other people with the same thing."

"I'm confused." Alfred said.

"If you, or even Matthew came back with me, my king would have something different to choose from. A man who understands English and the Native tongue, who looks either white or brown, someone who could be what he pleases, my king would love to speak with you." Arthur said. "And since I brought you to him, I may receive something in return."

Alfred nodded, though he still didn't quite understand. "If I go back with you, I want to stay there. I want to be accepted back into the white men."

Matthew cast Alfred a look, but his brother didn't waver. He knew what he wanted, and he would do this to get it.

Arthur blinked, obviously shocked. "Where would you stay?"

"With you. You take me to speak with your king, you must look after me and care for me. Do we have a deal?" Alfred asked, determined.

After a brief silence, Arthur nodded. "Agreed. We will leave with the next ship back to England."

Alfred nodded. His heart was in his throat. He couldn't believe he could be going back to where his father came from, where he could be whoever he wanted, not some half-breed.

Francis turned his eyes to Matthew, who was staring at Alfred in shock. "What would you like in exchange for teaching me the way of the land?"

Matthew glanced between the handsome white man in front of him and his beloved brother. He swallowed and locked eyes with Francis. "I want to go with you."


	3. Chapter 3

Footsteps of a Stranger

Chapter 3

Matthew dug into the dirt. The soft soil pooled around his wrists. He lifted his handful and dumped it beside the shallow hole. "We start by digging a place for the plant to grow."

Francis sank to his knees beside Matthew. Though he grimaced when his nice trousers touched the dirt. "You don't have tools for this?"

"We do for larger plants, but I'm just going to show you pumpkins," Matthew said.

"Pumpkins?" Francis asked.

Matthew grinned and reached into the pouch at his hip. He withdrew a handful of seeds. "They're orange and round. We use the fillings and seeds for food."

Francis plucked a seed from Matthew's palm. "And they come from this?"

"Have you never seen a seed before?"

Shrugging guiltily, Francis grinned. "I've never dug in the dirt before."

Matthew's mouth made a rather adorable 'o' shape. "What?"

"'It is not something a young gentleman does,'" Francis said in a snooty voice.

Matthew laughed. "Who says that?"

"My mother. Another reason I came here," Francis plunged his hands into the soft soil. "She's always _there_. She always has to make sure I'm not doing anything that would ruin our family name. She even monitors what I eat, making sure I'm fit to take control of the house when Father dies."

"At least your mother likes you," Matthew said. "Our mother didn't even want us."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Here I am, complaining about my mother," Francis had the decency to look ashamed.

Matthew smiled. "Don't worry about it. Your hole needs to be a tad deeper."

Francis nodded and scooped another handful of dirt out. "If you don't mind me asking," he accepted a seed from Matthew's palm. "How did you two happen?"

"Well, our father was one of the first to come to this land," Matthew said. He didn't get to share his story with much of anyone besides the sister tribes and they all already hated him. Francis had no reason to hate him. "He was stricken with our mother, who wanted nothing to do with him. So, he did what all wealthy white men do. He took her."

Francis buried the seed, Matthew's hands were on top of his. The soil was gritty and soft between their skin.

"Once she had us, our father let her go. He raised us until he died. We were supposed to get the money, but our uncles took it. We were shoved here and our mother wants nothing to do with us," Matthew finished. He stood, pulling his hands away from Francis's.

"I'm sorry, Matthew," Francis stood himself, then copied Matthew's motions of wiping his hands on his trousers.

"No worries. It's all we've known so it's not too hard," Matthew smiled. "Congratulations. Your pumpkin is on its way."

Francis grinned. "I'm gonna have my very own pumpkin!"

Matthew laughed. "It takes a while for them to grow. How about I show you some other stuff?"

"Sounds great." Francis replied.

With a shy smile, Matthew turned and walked to the river. Fishing was a good skill. And the idea of Francis trying to catch a fish made Matthew giggle.

"I thought you said you could write," Arthur frowned.

"The last time I wrote in English was when I was eight," Alfred snapped. His ears were red and he felt tears pricking the backs of his eyes.

He had written his name the best he could, and Arthur was yelling at him. In front of his entire camp. Who were all _staring._

"You could have started with that," Arthur grumbled. "Write your name again, but slower."

Alfred sighed and picked up the pencil. He forced himself to slow down as he wrote his name. It did come out better, but it was still shaky.

"Good. Do you know how to do Matthew's name?" Arthur asked in a soft voice. Alfred felt goosebumps rise on his skin.

"I think so," Alfred furrowed his brow as he wrote his brother's name. It took him a moment, but he remembered the movements.

"Very good. How about my name?"

"I don't know how to spell it." Alfred admitted with a blush.

"Do you know the alphabet?" Arthur asked patiently.

"Yes," Alfred was confident with that answer.

"Alright, now write the letters I tell you. A, R,"

Alfred had to concentrate especially hard while writing Arthur's name. The most he had written ever had been his and his brother's name and other simple words like 'cat', 'dad', and 'rain.'

"Great job, Alfred!" Arthur praised. He leaned close to Alfred, their shoulders brushing.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Alfred smiled. "Really?"

"Yes. It looks like my kid cousin Peter wrote it, but it's great for what you know," Arthur teased.

Alfred shoved Arthur's shoulder. "Why do I need to learn this anyway?"

"You are going to meet my king, I can't have you embarrassing me," Arthur replied.

Alfred huffed and fingered the edge of the paper, then he had an idea. "Can you teach Mattie, too? He liked this a lot better than I did…"

"I would love to teach your brother," Arthur smiled fondly.

"Great! He's going to be so excited!" Alfred said.

Arthur patted Alfred's knee. "Now, enough dawdling. Why don't you write the alphabet?"

Alfred suppressed a groan and began to write. He was quite proud of his legible his 'A' was, but the rest of his letters were lacking on how clear they were.

"Filthy Indian," a gruff man growled as he walked past them.

Alfred merely glanced up before returning to his letters, but Arthur stood so fast his chair fell over. "What did you say?"

The man stopped and glared at Arthur. "I said, _filthy Indian," he_ pronounced Indian like injun.

Arthur nodded and smoothed the front of his shirt. Alfred stopped writing and watched the two with interest. "Well, I suggest you do not say it again."

"Or what?" the man was a good foot taller than Arthur, but the blond didn't seem to care.

"Try me," Arthur's emerald eyes were blazing with anger. Alfred found it rather attractive.

The man grinned, though he didn't have much teeth to grin with. "Injun."

Arthur gave a single nod, then brought his arm back before hitting the man in his right eye. He hardly had time to let out an 'oof' before he was on the ground.

He didn't get back up for another ten minutes.

"Arthur!" Alfred breathed out, before dissolving into laughter. "What did you _do_!"

The Englishman smoothed his shirt again and fixed his seat before settling beside Alfred again. "I didn't agree with what he said."

"So you punch him?" Alfred wasn't mad. It was rather hilarious that a man, who was rather short compared to the rest of the white men that he was with, was able to take one down with a single hit. All because he called Alfred a 'filthy injun.' Alfred was rather touched.

"Just because I was raised in a mansion, doesn't mean I don't know how to stand my ground," Arthur crossed his legs and tapped Alfred's shakily drawn 'J'. "That's backwards, dear."

Alfred shook his head and quickly rewrote the letter. He glanced at Arthur who smiled in approval. Feeling warm, Alfred finished the alphabet.

"I told Francis to meet us again tonight," Matthew said from the front of the canoe.

"Why?" Alfred frowned. "Haven't you had enough of his weird beard?"

"His beard is not _weird_. You're just jealous because you can't grow one," Matthew said, tossing his long braids over his shoulder.

"I can grow a beard! I just choose not to!" Alfred splashed his brother, who gasped and shot Alfred a glare.

"What's so wrong about meeting with them tonight?" Matthew stopped rowing and placed the oar across his lap.

Alfred sighed and copied his brother. "Nothing. I want to go see them."

"Then what's the issue?" Matthew frowned.

"If we disappear too often, people will start to notice," Alfred said. It sometimes baffled him that he could be the smart one and Matthew was the one who did what he wanted.

Matthew pouted. "They hardly pay any attention to us, Alfred. They would be glad if we really disappeared."

"I know that, Mattie," Alfred said. "But with these new white men, everyone will be on their toes."

Matthew glared at Alfred. Though it killed him to admit, Alfred was right. Especially since they were half white themselves, the tribe could start to see them as a threat.

"Do you think we can go at least tonight? Then keep it strictly to day?" Matthew asked. He was afraid he had grown quite fond of Francis and was already eager to see him again.

Alfred screwed his lips to the side. "Fine. But I mean it, tonight only."

Matthew grinned and sunk his oar back into the water. "Good, because I told them we would feed them."

"Matthew!" Alfred scolded. Now they had to _steal_ along with lying.

"Have you seen the food they have on that boat? It's _awful,_ " Matthew said. "Francis showed me."

"I know. Arthur made me eat some for supper. It was worse than Dad's cooking," Alfred grimaced at the thought. They had made it back to the rocky shore of their village.

Matthew chuckled and swung into the shallow water to pull the canoe in. "Remember when-"

"Where have you two been?" a shout came from inside the circle of huts.

Alfred clamored out of the small boat as their mother came barreling down the hill, her hair flying.

Kiatana stopped in front of her boys and glared hotly at them, though her eyes were filled with tears. "I thought you'd been injured by those _horrible_ men!"

"What?" Matthew reached out to touch her shoulder, but dropped his hand before he could. "What happened?"

"We had some men by the beach, watching the white men. One of them left their camp and spotted our people. He used a weapon of smoke, fire and thunder, they said. There is a terrible wound in his stomach," Kiatana took a shaky breath. "The Healer says he won't survive."

Alfred felt his stomach roll. He had heard that shot as Arthur was showing him out of the camp. They had both dismissed it as someone shooting a deer or quail.

"That's awful," Matthew said. His throat felt hot and clamped. Here he was, flirting with Francis all day and someone was dying.

"Get inside the camp," Kiatana nudged the twins to the circle of huts. "The chief wants to address everyone."

Alfred look at Matthew. They both knew what this meant; sneaking out would be a lot more difficult than it already was.

The chief was holding the hands of a sobbing pregnant woman. Alfred had to grip Matthew's arm to keep from vomiting. The child would never know their father, and the mother was a widow at far too young.

Once everyone was gathered together, the chief spoke. His voice was grim and the woman beside him continued to cry. "This is the second man these white monsters have killed, they are too dangerous to speak to," he paused. His dark eyes seemed to bore into Alfred, like he knew what the twins were doing.

"I have made contact with our sister tribe. They have agreed to help protect us from the newcomers," another pause and a frustrated look to his people. "We must place new rules for our protection. No one is to leave unless they are armed. No one must go alone. No one is allowed to the beach. After sunset, no one is to leave the village."

Matthew glanced at Alfred, who kept his mouth clamped shut. He didn't know if he should say anything in protest, they were not prisoners, but didn't want to risk it.

"We will begin to build walls to protect ourselves, and guards posted all day and night. Now, please, let us continue to mourn our lost brother," the chief lowered his head and the village was silent. The woman's sobs were the only thing that broke the quiet of the people.

"We can't go," Alfred hissed as Matthew went ahead of him.

"We have to," Matthew replied. He ran towards the next hut, slowly getting farther from the chief's hut.

"It's too dangerous!" Alfred caught up to Matthew and held his breath as a guard walked just where they were.

"Alfred, you don't understand," Matthew whispered after the guard passed.

"I think you're the one not understanding!" Alfred looked around before darting to their canoe.

Matthew caught up with him. They didn't speak again until they were halfway to their meeting spot.

"Alfred," Matthew turned to look at his brother. The moon's reflection bounced off the water and lit his eyes. "What I'm trying to say, is that I think Francis likes me."

"Wait, what?" Alfred narrowed his eyes.

"I mean, I think he does. It's just that he's so nice to me, I can't help but like him."

"You mean in a _romantic_ way?" Alfred asked.

"Well, yes," Matthew said bashfully.

"You met him like, two days ago," Alfred had to hold back some accusation from his voice. He liked Arthur. And in _that_ way.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't. But he's so nice and handsome and endearing and he speaks _French,_ Alfred! How cool is that?"

"We speak English and the same language as the tribe," Alfred replied. "What's so great about French?"

"Do you know anyone who can speak French?" Matthew grinned.

"Well, no," Alfred admitted.

Matthew rolled his eyes and grinned. "If you're going back with them, you might want to learn how."

Alfred smiled sheepishly. "That reminds me, Arthur said he'll teach you how to write. He even has a few books to read."

"Really?" Matthew was almost overflowing with happiness. "Books? And he'll show me how to write?"

"Yeah. He tried to show me earlier today but I haven't improved much since we were eight."

"You see never that great to begin with," Matthew teased.

"Oh, shut up."

They continued on their way down the river to two strange men. Their hearts were light and their thoughts full of possibilities of their future.


	4. Chapter 4

Footsteps of a Stranger

Chapter Four

"You can't be serious," Arthur said. He looked at Francis like he had turned into a frog.

"I am dead serious," Francis replied. He rolled another log to the other side of the fire pit Arthur was digging.

"You can't _like_ him. You're using him to learn how to live off the land. In exchange, you are taking him to civilization, where homosexual tendencies are _illegal._ " Arthur chided.

"It's not illegal to love someone, Arthur," Francis rolled his eyes.

"It is back home. Where we are all going."

Francis sighed. "You're impossible."

"Arthur? Francis?" Alfred called.

Matthew was on his heels, but once he was sure it was Francis, he maneuvered around Alfred to go say hi. Alfred went to Arthur and handed him the deer-skin bag full of food. "We brought you this."

Arthur examined the bag before grabbing it. "What did you make this out of?"

"Deer hide. We use animals for almost everything here," Alfred replied.

"What do you mean 'everything?'" Arthur sat on one of the logs Francis had rolled over.

"All life is sacred," Matthew knelt by the firepit and picked up a few twigs. It was going to be dark soon and the night brought a chill as winter approached. "When we kill an animal, we don't let anything to to waste. Their skin is used for clothes, blankets and bags like that one."

"We eat the meat of course," Alfred gathered larger pieces of wood for Matthew. "Then we use the bones and antlers for tools and jewlery."

"What about the organs?" Francis asked with slight disgust.

Matthew glanced at Alfred and grinned. "Why don't you look in the bag?"

Arthur blinked and opened the string-tie. He lifted a bundle of jerky and set it beside him, then he grabbed a pouch full of some dark liquid. "Is this it?"

"Yup, that's a bladder," Alfred set his sticks beside Matthew who had a small flame going on the twigs.

"Wait, what?" Arthur shoved the bag toward Alfred.

Alfred laughed and Matthew giggled behind his hand. "It's clean!"

"It's a _bladder,_ " Arthur shot back.

"We were the exact same way. It startled us beyond belief," Alfred said. He sat beside Arthur and opened the pouch. "It's just a way of life. Easier to carry than a canteen, in my opinion."

"And it doesn't leave that metal taste behind," Matthew fed a few sticks to the fire before sitting on the log opposite Arthur and Alfred. Francis took the spot beside him.

Arthur reluctantly took the pouch back after Alfred took a swig of whatever was inside it. "And its safe?"

"Our people have been doing it for years. Not one of them, as far as I know, have died from drinking from a bladder," Alfred replied.

Arthur met Francis's eyes across the growing fire and raised the pouch. "Cheers," he took a sip. When he lowered the pouch, he smacked his lips. "What is it?"

"Plum juice and some other stuff. It's good, huh?" Alfred grinned and took another sip before passing the pouch to Francis.

"Is it good?" Francis took a sniff.

"Its sweet. Almost like wine," Arthur replied.

Liking now that sounded, Francis took his drink. "Not as strange as I expected."

"I'm glad you like it," Matthew smiled adorably and accepted the pouch from Francis. "Alfred, will you pass around the food?"

"Oh, right." Alfred grabbed his sack and distributed jerky, berries and corn to the others.

Francis and Arthur ate heartedly. Apparently, the food they had back at their own camp really was awful. Matthew even gave Francis the rest of his jerky while Alfred offered Arthur another ear of corn.

Stomachs full, the four sat in compatible silence. The weather was still somewhat warm, but cool enough for their little fire. Birds twittered in the trees and small animals ran through bushes and over fallen leaves. It was peaceful.

Matthew had steadily moved closer to Francis, and with their thighs touching, he looked from face to face. "What do you two usually do around campfires?"

Arthur and Francis exchanged glances. They really didn't _do_ anything. "Well," Arthur began. "We tell stories."

"Like what?" Alfred asked. He and Matthew had never been allowed by their father's campfires, so they were curious as to what grown white men talked about.

"Usually about women," Francis said.

Matthew gave him a furrowed brow look and seemed to inch away.

"Not everyone talks about women," Francis quickly added, somewhat upset that Matthew had moved away from him.

"Some talk about drinking, or their kids, or lands they have traveled to," Arthur added.

"That's interesting," Matthew said. He was once again close to Francis's side.

"What do your people do?" Francis asked.

"We sing a lot. And dance. Most of the songs and dances are prayers to the gods," Matthew said. He fed another stick to the fire.

"Gods? As in, more than one?" Arthur asked.

"It was weird to us, too," Alfred said. "We were taught about God and Jesus until we were eight, then we come here and they have gods for almost everything."

"Like what?" Francis asked.

"Well, there's a god for fire, the rivers, the plants and animals, the sun, the moon," Matthew explained.

"Who do you pray to?" Arthur said.

"Who ever-"

"Whomever, Alfred," Arthur interrupted.

Matthew snickered and Alfred shoved Arthur's shoulder. " _Whom_ -ever we want. We usually have a ceremony on a certain day to ask the gods to bless us with a good harvest or plenty of fish in the river."

Francis nodded, seeming to understand. "Can you sing one of the songs?"

Alfred and Matthew shared a look over the fire. The songs were only sung when it was time for them, never a day early or late. They didn't know what would happen if they sang at an inappropriate time. Would the gods be upset with them? Maybe singing the song twice would cancel it out so instead of blessing the winter, they would accidentally curse it and everyone would die.

"Is something the matter?" Arthur said.

"We just don't know what kind of song to sing," Alfred admitted.

"Is there one you sing on a wedding day? Or the day of birth?" Francis inquired.

"I don't see why we can't sing the Birth Song," Matthew said.

Alfred shrugged. "If you guys are really that curious."

Arthur placed a hand over Alfred's and smiled. "It would be amazing to hear you sing."

Blushing lightly, Alfred tried to ignore how Arthur had only said him and not him _and_ Matthew. He didn't get very far with that.

"We just need a beat," Matthew said. He dropped his hands in his lap and began patting his knees, making a steady rhythm. Francis joined him once he got the pattern.

"Arthur, you copy me," Alfred clapped his hands to Matthew's and Francis's beat. He clapped at opposite times and sometimes together with Matthew patting his knee. Arthur was a bit more shaky, but eventually found the rhythm.

Once the beat was steady, Matthew sang first. It was low in his throat, then started to raise in pitch before going somewhere inbetween. The words were in the native language and Francis nor Arthur understood them, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Alfred joined him and Matthew faded off. Arthur felt shivers down his back and arms. He momentarily lost the beat, but quickly picked it up again at Francis's smirk.

Matthew then picked up Alfred's note and they completed the song a few moments later. Matthew stilled his hands in his lap while Alfred lowered his.

There was silence around the campfire and Matthew fidgeted with the braids that skimmed his thighs. Finally, Francis clapped lightly. A second later and Arthur joined.

"That was beautiful," Francis praised. He repeated it again in French and touched Matthew's hand.

Matthew visibly blushed. "Thank you."

"Are all your songs like that?" Arthur asked.

"No, some can be quite sad," Alfred replied.

"Especially the child death song. It's terrible. We've only had to sing it a few times though," Matthew said.

They got really quiet there. It was never a good time to mention death, especially a child.

Francis stood. "Enough with all this sad," he said loudly, as if his voice could chase away the somber mood. "Matthew, may I show you something?"

Matthew grinned and took the hand Francis offered. "Yes, you may."

Francis lead him to the treeline and Matthew threw a grin at Alfred over his shoulder. Francis _did_ like him.

"I hope I'm not being too forward," Francis said gently. They were still holding hands as they walked.

"Not at all," Matthew smiled. "What did you want to show me?"

"This spot up ahead. I'm not sure if you know if it's here or not, but I found it quite neat."

"Alfred and I live here, it'll be hard to find something I don't know about."

Francis just smiled. "I can sure try."

They walked a bit longer. Their hands swung gently between them. Finally, Francis stopped. He pointed to a cluster of rocks. A soft swirl of steam rose from the middle. "Just up there."

Matthew furrowed his brow. "I don't think I've ever been here before."

Francis grinned. "Really? I was hoping you could tell me what it was."

They climbed the cluster of rocks. Matthew thought about everything he knew of the land around them. The only thing he could think of that was like this place was… He blushed darkly.

"I know what this is."

"Well?" Francis looked down at a pool of water the rocks formed. It looked quite deep and was warm just standing beside it.

"It's, uhm," Matthew shuffled his feet. "This is the hot spring newlywed couples come to."

Francis opened his mouth to compliment how wonderful the setting was when he realized what Matthew meant. Newlyweds came here for their first coupling. Francis snapped his mouth closed and took a hesitant step back.

"I'm sorry, I did not know," he said. His voice sounded thick. He cleared his throat. "We can leave, if you want.

"No!" Matthew said almost too quickly. A blush sparked up in his cheeks. "I mean, I do not think I'll ever see this place again. No one would want to marry a half-breed like me." Francis frowned at that. "We should stay, no one would be coming tonight," Matthew finished.

"If you are sure," Francis said slowly.

Matthew nodded and sat as gracefully as he could on a rock. He unlaced his shoes, Alfred and the others made fun of him for wearing them at times, but he couldn't stand the thought of stepping in the remains of an animal with his bare feet. Though everyone wore shoes when the ground became too cold to walk on.

Francis sat across from him and yanked his tall boots off. He set them neatly beside the rock and tugged his socks off. He stood and unclasped his belt.

As he shucked his trousers down, he felt Matthew's eyes on him. Smirking a little, he continued to strip. He even took off his underpants. He could almost feel the heat of Matthew's blush. Francis stepped into the spring and settled down on a rock.

"Are you going to join me?" he asked coyly.

Face red, Matthew unlaced the side of his deer-hide pants. His people did not wear undergarments, didn't even make them, so he was stark naked in no time.

He slid into the pool, across from Francis, and sat on an outcropping of rock. The water was warm and pleasant on his skin. He felt his muscles relax and his mind begin to float.

"Matthew," Francis said softly.

Lifting his eyes, Matthew felt Francis's eyes and suddenly became very self-conscious. He was dark compared to Francis's milky white skin. His hair was darker and he had freckles across his nose and cheeks from the sun. Francis's face was flawless despite some rather charming stubble. Francis looked like how Matthew always wanted to look. It made him want to cover himself from Francis's piercing gaze.

"Yes?" Matthew managed to breath out.

Francis leaned across the small space between them. He touched Matthew's cheek, his hand warm. Matthew wasn't sure if Francis was warm from the water or if he was just naturally that warm. Either way, Matthew trembled under the touch.

"I don't know what the rules are here," Francis started. "But, how do you feel about a man," he paused, unsure how to phrase what he was thinking. "About a man loving another man?"

Matthew's heart pounded in his ears. What kind of question was that? Was Francis asking him out of personal preference or because Matthew was just _that_ obvious? Yet Francis hadn't removed his hand from his cheek and was he coming closer?

He swallowed. "I have never seen a couple who were both men," he started. "And I have never heard anyone speak of it."

"How do you feel about it?" Francis definitely was closer.

Matthew shook his head. "I...I don't know."

A smile quirked at Francis's mouth. Then that mouth was against Matthew's. He couldn't breath he couldn't think. Francis's hand was on his cheek, in his hair, down his neck.

Matthew felt himself trembling. He wanted to reach out and touch Francis as well, but his hand wouldn't obey his mind. He was able to move his lips against Francis's, however, and found that it occupied his mind quite a bit.

Francis's hand trailed down his chest, hovered over his navel, fingers ghosted down the soft, blond trail of hair to-

Matthew threw himself back. His shoulder blades hit the rock behind him. He wanted to cry out, but his mouth wasn't listening him.

"I'm sorry," Francis said. He was flustered. His hair quite a mess from the gentle steam from the spring. "Are you hurt?"

"I have to go," Matthew managed to say.

"What?" Francis looked hurt. "I'm sorry if I startled you-"

"I have to go," Matthew repeated. He climbed out of the pool, keeping his back firmly to Francis.

"Matthew," Francis stood as well. He didn't know what to do. He thought Matthew was fine with the kiss, but this was most definitely not fine.

Matthew had his pants on when he finally faced Francis. His face was red and confusion swam in his purple-blue eyes. "I need to talk with Alfred," he said. Then, tugging on his shoes, he left Francis in the hot spring.

¤ Author's Note: I don't want to offend anyone with how Alfred and Matthew explained their tribe. There were many Native American tribes in the New World, so to prevent inaccurate facts, Alfred and Matthew have a fictitious tribe that will have similar aspects to many other tribes.¤


	5. Chapter 5

Footsteps of a Stranger

Chapter Five

When Matthew and Francis had disappeared into the trees, Alfred felt a heavy silence between himself and Arthur. Alfred cleared his throat. He pulled his braids over his shoulder and fiddled with the ends.

"Why the braids?"

"Huh?" Alfred's brought his eyes up to Arthur.

"Why just two braids? Why not grow all of your hair out?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, well, we did try the long hair. It was hard to manage, especially with their combs. They're made for thick hair so it hurt our heads," Alfred explained. "And when we grew it out, we felt like we were getting rid of Dad."

"I see," Arthur said after a moment.

Alfred smiled and pointed to Arthur's eyebrows. "Why them?"

"What about them?" Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Why are they so big?" Alfred grinned, hoping Arthur would understand he was kidding.

"They are not that bad!" Arthur snapped. A hand flew to his face and be began to smooth his eyebrows.

Alfred laughed. He found himself leaning closer to Arthur, even though he was yelling at him. "You're right, they're almost cute."

Arthur's mouth snapped shut with an audible _click._ His ears turned red and he ducked his head to his chest. He dropped his hand to his lap and twisted his fingers together.

"I'm sorry," Alfred said. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, you didn't. It was just…" Arthur paused and managed to meet Alfred's pretty blue eyes. "Unexpected."

Alfred smiled. "Not many people like your eyebrows?"

"I usually get laughed at for them," Arthur said. "Francis is the worst of them."

"Should I beat him up for you?" Alfred asked with a grin. He nudged Arthur's shoulder and he gave a small laugh.

"You can try, but he's a bit bigger than you," Arthur said with a grin.

"Oh, c'mon. I'm not that short," Alfred said.

"Just a tad for your age."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "You are barely taller than me, you have no room to brag."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "Being taller gives me all the bragging rights I want."

"That is not how it works."

"Now it does," Arthur grinned wickedly.

Alfred shoved his shoulder and they laughed together. Arthur felt like a child again, teasing Alfred like this. They sat in compatible silence, the fire popped and crackled in front of them and their thighs pressed together.

"Arthur?" Alfred said after a few minutes.

"Yes?"

"Will you tell me about England?"

"Why? You will be going there soon enough," Arthur said with a smile.

"I know. I'm just excited. Please?"

Arthur chuckled and gave a single nod. "Very well, what would you like to hear?"

Alfred was quiet for a moment. "Tell me about your house."

"Well, it's very large. About a dozen rooms-"

"What's a dozen?" Alfred interrupted.

"Twelve. There's twelve bedrooms, a parlor, a study, two bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining hall and a small ball room." Arthur said.

Alfred was quiet. He wasn't exactly sure what a parlor or ball room was. After a few seconds he spoke again. "Do you live with anyone?" Alfred asked. All those rooms sounded like it would get lonely.

Arthur shook his head, then nodded. "Sort of. The servants live with me. There's only a few though."

"You have servants?" Alfred asked.

"Yes. One cleans, one cooks, one takes care of the yard and one takes care of my animals," Arthur said.

"What animals do you have?" Alfred hoped Arthur didn't notice him changing the subject. He had heard of other tribes that had been forced to be servants. Luckily they had avoided such a fate so far.

Arthur smiled. Alfred sounded like a little kid asking so many questions. "I have a horse my father brought me from here, a couple chickens, a goat, and a cat."

"Oh," Alfred seemed confused by some of the animals, but didn't say anything.

"Anything else you wish to know?" Arthur asked.

Alfred shook his head. "Not at the moment."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Will you teach me your language?"

"Gee, Arthur. I can't even read English, how can I teach you a whole other language?" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but the trees around them began to rustle quite loudly. Startled, Arthur gripped Alfred's arm. "What was that?"

"I don't know. It was too big to be a squirrel," Alfred said. He moved closer to Arthur, not sure what to expect.

"Alfred!" It was Matthew. "Alfred!"

"Matthew?" Alfred stood. "What are you doing? You scared us!"

"We have to go," Matthew said. He went to Alfred and gripped his arms. The ends of Matthew's hair dripped water coldly on Alfred's skin.

"Why? What's wrong?" Alfred asked. Matthew looked wild, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

Matthew glanced at Arthur then switched to the native language. "I kissed Francis."

"Isn't that good?" Alfred, responded in the same language, and furrowed his brow.

Matthew looked at Arthur again before turning back to Alfred. "Can we go back to the village?"

"Yeah, sure," Alfred said. He turned to Arthur and spoke in English. "We have to go. We should be able to get out tomorrow though."

Arthur's brow bunched together, almost making a continuous line. Matthew was acting strange.

Alfred continued speaking. "We can meet here. Say, noon?"

Arthur nodded with a rough smile. "Alright. Good night, you two."

The twins waved and went into the trees, their heads close together. Arthur heard Alfred talking, but Matthew stayed quiet.

Francis made his appearance a short time later. His hair was wet and his clothes stuck to him damply. He looked around the small clearing. "Are they gone?"

"Yes. What did you do?" Arthur said with a glare. "As soon as Matthew got here they both ran off."

"How do you know I did something?" Francis asked. "What if Matthew bashed me on the head and left me to drown?"

"Because he looks like he was assaulted and you look just fine." Arthur folded his arms and waited for an explanation.

Francis sighed. "If you must know, I kissed him."

"What?" Arthur felt his mouth drop open.

"We were in this spring and he was looking at me and I just kissed him."

"Did you shove your tongue down his throat as well? The poor lad look terrified," Arthur scolded.

"I might have gotten a little handsy, but I thought he was enjoying it. I tried to apologize but, he ran off."

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You better make things right. It won't be long before the other men decide to invade the villages."

"They wouldn't hurt anyone, would they?" Francis asked.

"If they don't find any gold, I think they will. And we don't want Alfred and Matthew there when they do."

"But the other towns around here have left them alone. They have treaties."

"What makes you think that these men will listen to the treaties?" Arthur picked up Alfred's forgotten bag. "You have to make things right with Matthew tomorrow."

"Are they coming back? Did Matthew say he would?"

"He didn't speak to me. Alfred said they would be able to get out tomorrow, though."

Francis nodded. "I'll make things right with him."

Arthur just gave him a look before he stomped out the fire. "Let's go before they get suspicious."

"He didn't hurt you did he? Did he touch you anywhere inappropriate?" Alfred all but shrieked.

Matthew shushed him and shook his head. "He just kissed me."

"Why did you run off then? Isn't that what you wanted? I thought you liked him." Alfred set his paddle across his lap and leaned closer to Matthew.

They were a ways away from the village. They could make out a few of the roofs, but other than that everything was shrouded in shadow.

"I did want him to kiss me, and I do like him," Matthew agreed. "It was all just so _fast._ I mean, one moment we were just sitting there and the next, his hand was on my thigh-"

Alfred gasped. "He didn't touch you _there,_ did he?"

Matthew felt his cheeks heat up and was glad it was too dark for Alfred to see. "No! I panicked after that and said I had to go. I didn't know what to do."

"Oh," Alfred said softly. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Matthew said pathetically. He dropped his elbows on his knees and slumped his chin into his hands. "What should I do?"

"I don't know. What do you think? Do you still like him?"

"Yes. I do. And I want to go to England still. He just... _attacked_ me, you know?"

"Well tell him that. Not me," Alfred said. He placed a comforting hand on Matthew's shoulder. "I would tell him to take it easy. I mean, it's not like you are going anywhere."

Matthew nodded. "That sounds good. I think I'll tell him."

"Good. Now can we go home? I'm tired."

"Wait," Matthew said. He stopped Alfred from putting his paddle in the water. "What happened with you and Arthur?"

Alfred shrugged. "Nothing much. We talked. He told me about his home in England. He has a lot of animals, Mattie. It's going to be really fun. Oh, and he wants to learn the native language."

"Really? That would be fun to teach. Maybe we can show Francis, too," Matthew said. He raised an eyebrow. "Did you remember to get those papers and books from Arthur?"

Alfred sat for a moment, then smacked his forehead. "No! I forgot. Sorry, Mattie."

Matthew smiled and waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. We can get it tomorrow. What kind of animals does Arthur have? Do you think Francis has the same ones?"

They talked for a bit about Arthur's home. Then they speculated about Francis's. Alfred teased that it was probably full of half-naked ladies and Matthew took high offense to that. ("Francis is not _that_ kind of man!" "He attacked you!" "He did not _attack_ me!" "You said yourself he attacked you." "Maybe I over exaggerated.")

"Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes, Mattie?"

"Will we be happy in England?" Matthew sounded small. Like a child who was lost and desperately wanted reassurance.

"I think so. I mean, we might miss this place, but who is going to miss us?" Alfred said. He believed his words. The village would probably rejoice at their absence.

Matthew was silent for a moment. Then: "I hope our mother does, because I'll miss her."

Alfred met Matthew's eyes in the semi-dark. They were the same shape as his, but Matthew's had a slight purple hue. "I'll miss her, too."

"Do you…" Matthew paused. He cleared his throat. He had been doing that a lot while they talked. Alfred hoped he wasn't getting sick. The nights were getting to be too cold to deal with that. "Do you think she'll miss us?"

Alfred thought for a moment. Would their mother miss them? He couldn't say for sure but she was their mother. Could she hate then so completely? He shrugged. "I don't know, Mattie. I don't know if anyone will."

They were silent. The sky was full of stars. They reflected dimly on the barely moving water.

"Are you ready to go back?" Alfred asked softly. He wanted to get to sleep before the sky began to lighten.

Matthew sighed heavily. "I suppose we should."

They paddled back to their village. While they sat and talked, they had floated a ways off and it took them a tad longer to get back to their shore. Once there, they slid into the shallow water to drag the small boat over the rocks. They carried the canoe back to where it belonged and made the trek back to their beds.

"No one will notice we were gone, right?" Alfred whispered.

Matthew took off his shoes and placed them at the end of his bed, which really was animal hide stuffed with hay. "I don't know. I hope not."

They didn't dare to light a candle to see what they were doing and changed in the dark. Out of their wet clothes and half-blind, they managed to climb into bed.

Alfred yawned loudly and jostled around a good two minutes before settling down. Matthew rolled his eyes and adjusted himself, waiting for Alfred to quiet down. Finally Alfred stopped moving.

"Night, Mattie."

Matthew cleared his throat. It had felt itchy for a while now. He was probably just tired. They had been talking most of the night. "Good night, Alfred."

A few minutes later, Alfred's light snoring took up their small space. Matthew fell asleep to the oddly soothing sound.

Matthew's coughing woke them up the next morning.


	6. AN

Hey guys, FF has been messing with my chapters so no more sex scenes will be published. However, if you would like to read those chapters in full, feel free to message me and I'll email it to you. I'll put at the beginning of a chapter if it is not complete so you don't have to read it twice. Just include the story and what chapter you'll need. Thanks!


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